Living and Dying
by Ersatz Arcana
Summary: -HIATUS- The effects of a friend's death takes its toll on one person, and just living is a pain for him. He now to stay alive just for her.
1. Dream One

This story is very different. It has a darker nature to it, and it's scary! D= The upcoming chapters are not for people who don't like reading about blood! As usual, please read and review! You get a pillow!

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><p><em>A long, pale arm stretches out in the dark, dark darkness. Glowing like moonlight on water, it reaches out for me. I hang back, afraid of the darkness. Suspicious of the arm that frantically makes an effort to find me. I won't let it. I run away, desperately seeking solace. A bright, luminous forest. With sun rays going through the openings in the trees. Healthy. Live. Living.<em>

_Instead, I see the arm. It's accompanied by a hand. The hand grabs my leg, and I fall. My face turns from surprise to fear. It pulls me away, and I start screaming. Anybody. Somebody. Anyone. Someone. Why won't anybody come? Was I that expendable? Am I so worthless that nobody—not even my own family—will come to my aid?_

_Suddenly, a body comes out, the arm and hand connected to the torso. Something's wrong. Silver, wrinkled body. Not pale, like the arm and hand. The other arm and hand are pale. The upper body and down is a light brown. The face is covered by a silver mask. From the neck, the flesh looks soft and pretty, like a Vogue model, despite being a blood red. Yet, even without the uneven body, it was unrealistic. As though it wasn't supposed to belong. No, '_belong_' isn't the right word. The soft flesh, it's not supposed to be like that. Yet, it is._

_I scream once the hands grab my neck. I wanted to beg. To plead. To _insist _that it doesn't end my life here. With so much I wanted to do in this world, ending my life here would be wasteful. Yet, for some reason, I don't. Quickly, I raise my own hands to the pull and rip it off. The face is recognizable. It's my own._

_And I watch as I choke myself to my death. My other personality laughs at me as she disappears into a burst of red and silver flames._

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><p>Yay for...weird stuff! ...That's all I can describe, really. Please review and have a good day!<p> 


	2. Dream Two

This is the 2nd dream of the mysterious person who narrates this story. For now, at least. ZOMG SPOILERS not really. =D

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><p><em>A forest. I finally find my safe haven. Everything is alive. The branches in the trees sway with the wind. A crow rests on my arm and cries out a song. Delicate, pleasant, cheerful. I look into the crow's black eyes. It stares at me, as if waiting for a reply song. My mouth opens. A verse warbles out.<em>

"_My dream,_

_That's where I went to be_

_My dream,_

_It's where I'm free._

_That's the place I feel most at home_

_There, I'm never alone."_

_The crow tilts its small head. Almost immediately, it flies off. The small bit of song resonates in the forest. I look up at the trees, smiling. Happy, I'm guessing. Full of life. Smiling. Singing. Waving. Laughing. Although, a small pain still lingers, despite being in my utopia. A friend. Two, if possible. I think of how nice this would be, if a friend comes and appreciates it as much as I do. Being alone isn't merry. Being alone isn't jolly. A friend is just one thing I ask for now, in this Utopia._

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><p>You don't know how much I didn't want to post this. Lyrics = ...Eh. Anyway, please review, everybody!<p> 


	3. Dream Three

_My boyfriend appears beside me. No, '_boyfriend_' is the wrong word, since we weren't going out. My friend, Dylan, stands next to me, his auburn hand clasped with mine. Dark hair, eyes that remind me of walnuts. I wanted to hold him in my arms. I wanted time to leave us like that. Just as friends. Never going forward, just staying the same. Of course, it won't give in to my wants. I admit this to him. He laughs. I let go and slap his face. Dylan stops._

"_What do you wish for, then?" I demand._

"_Just one thing," he answers. His voice is deep, but not so deep it sounds like a fully matured man. "I wish you were smarter."_

_I slap him once, and another for good measure. I turn away from him, furious._

"_I'm kidding," he laughs. "I wish you could be with me just a while longer."_

_For a moment, I'm surprised. After a small moment of thinking, I realize that I wish the same thing._

"_Unfortunately, I can't fulfill that request," I tell him. Dylan smiles sadly._

"_I know." Dylan grabs my arm and embraces me in a warm hug. He then lets go and slowly leaves. I watch him as he quietly disappears._

_Once he's completely gone, I let myself cry in despair. Shrieks burst out from me. I plead to the dark, dark darkness. I beg. I break down in tears. I shout, wanting my message to reach to him. The person I want is gone, I realize. He isn't coming back. He wants to come back, I know. Someone, someone isn't letting him. I try to stand, but find it impossible. I feel a large weight placed on me. I look at my hands and see that they're encased in scarlet red. I look at my ankles and see that they're trapped in the same color. To represent blood or sins, I guess. Either way, I know that both are my fault. The blood I caused to spill. The sins I triggered and hurt someone close to me._

_I slowly turn my body to look up. I see a gap in the darkness. A crescent moon-shaped glass glitters silver and red. The glass hisses._

"_You will not be forgiven. What do you have to stand by?"_

_I stare for a moment, then I whisper back._

"_Sins are not forgiven. Dreams are what keep me going."_

_The glass stops glittering. Instead, it turns completely red. To represent blood or sins, I guess. I look at the center of the glass. Soon, my eyes closed, and I fell into deep sleep._

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><p>Yay for little funny part in the middle.<p>

Please review, everybody! I promise the upcoming chapters will be longer! Maybe!


	4. A Memory

Welcome to the next installment of _Living and Dying._ A story I'm deathly afraid of for no reason, but I write for your enjoyment anyway!

Please read and review!

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><p><em>Flames all around. Back home, I would be burning. Instead, I only feel the cool wind. It flies past my face and into my red hair. I opened my eyes, stand on my two feet, look up, and the glass is a steel silver. To signify the steel blade of my death, I suppose. The glass wasn't completely silver, actually. With how it looked now, the glass could be considered a window now. Outside, I could see bits and pieces of my past life. When I was a younger girl. My father giving me a kiss on the forehead. My mother smiling as I showed straight A's on my third grade report card. My baby sister sucking her thumb as I cradle her to sleep. Dylan hugging me good night.<em>

_Fragments of my life flashed, and for the first time since I have entered my personal netherworld, tears spill on my face. I lie down, close my eyes, and think about my past life. A nice family, a good friend, a nice life. What did they mean, and what did they stand for. I don't know._

_I remember in science class, our teacher was talking about the percentage of pregnant teens rising. Or something like that. Although, I do remember one thought appearing in my head while she talked on and on._

"_Jeez, do girls just wanna mess their lives _that _early?"_

_I told Dylan this when the teacher wasn't listening._

"_Nah," he whispered, "they're just stupid."_

"_No way am I getting pregnant before I'm married."_

"_No way am I getting a girl pregnant unless she's my wife."_

_Quiet laughter. A stern look from the teacher._

_I don't know why I remember that memory. It's irrelevant to my current situation, being stuck in Hades' Land. Maybe it's because my mind was so miserably cliché, it decided to find a happy memory. Or I was stupidly regretting causing suicide, just like the cliché books where girls regret their actions (An example being a girl feels sorry for dumping her perfect boyfriend. Gag me.) and such. I know Dylan loved me, I just thought that he would get over it. Now I will never get to know._

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><p>I kinda like this one. Kinda. It still scares me, though. Don't know why. Take a cookie on your way out!<p> 


	5. Guns

I know I said that _Living and Dying_ was on hiatus, but I got depressed and decided to try channeling it into writing. All right, guys, happy readings!

AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING BeyondTheClouds! It's all right with me! After all, people can't improve if they don't get criticism sometimes, right?

As usual, please read and review. I will totally love you forever! And maybe stop being so scared of this story. Oh well.

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><p>It's been exactly two year since she disappeared off the face of the earth. My best friend was certainly a dramatic one. Even when she was committing suicide, she made sure that it was something that stood out in our memories. To be honest though, one moment stands out in mine. Bloody, gory, even melodramatic at its best. Although, that wasn't the thing that stands out.<p>

I remember that day clearly. Bright, sunny, happy, it was a day of clear skies. Funny how such a beautiful day could be ruined in a second. We were at our old high school, Luminan High. It was eleven o'clock, fourth period. Only nine minutes had passed by, and our science teacher, Mrs. Cary, was talking about the rising percentage of pregnant teens. That conversation we had was funny.

"Jeez, do girls just wanna mess their lives that early?" she had asked.

"Nah," I whispered, hiding a smile, "they're just stupid."

"No way am I getting pregnant before I'm married," she decided.

"No way am I getting a girl pregnant unless she's my wife," I told her. We laugh and receive a stern look from Mrs. Cary.

Even though it's soon, being in our third year of high school, I already imagined her and I. She in a lovely white wedding dress, her dark hair up into that pretty ponytail with a white bow holding it up. I would be standing by her side, in my...monkey suit. As long as I was with her, I could stand it. This must be what love feels like, I had thought. When you start talking funny and act all weird. When you think about marriage and whatnot. Then again, my mom always told me that I was a little different from guys, being "such a gentleman" and all. I'm not surprised, since it was my mom who raised me and not my dad, who worked overseas.

Before I continue imagining our wedding day, her quiet voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Hey, Dylan, look at my bag." She holds up her book bag, opening it. I see nothing but textbooks, notebooks, papers, and some trash she was too lazy to toss out. Until I see it.

A small gun. A genuine, honest-to-goodness, real gun. Hidden so carefully, only if you were looking could you have found it. It was positioned so that it wouldn't be fired accidentally, I assumed. I look up at my best friend with wide eyes.

What?

"I found it in the cellar," she tells me in a quiet voice. Makes sure nobody hears this conversation. An innocent smile on that innocent face of hers. How much I wished I had told the teacher about this. Maybe I could have saved her life, maybe make her realize what she was going to miss in this world. Convince her. Instead, I was a coward who could do nothing but stare, dumbfounded.

"Dylan," she continues, "I'm gonna do it."

If I had known then why she wanted to commit this sinful act, maybe I might have been able to help her. Stop her from doing something so irrational. Maybe…

"…why?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she quickly rips out a piece of paper and starts writing a message down. Was it something so terrible, she didn't want to speak of it? That must've been it, since I could see tears threatening to pour out of her light blue eyes. I wish I could wipe her tears and make them go away.

Once she finishes the message, she hands it to me, making sure only my eyes are allowed to read it. I unfold the piece of paper and take my pen, pretending to write down notes.

_Tired of life. My parents are always pressuring me and comparing me to every person. My mom tells me how worthless I am, and that I'm a mistake. My dad cusses me out every five seconds. Belinda...well, you know how she is. The girl can't stand me. She'll be glad to be rid of me. Plus, with all of those break-ups and stuff...I don't think anybody would care if I died._

Belinda was the typical older, perfect sister. She resembled her younger sister, but in my opinion, she wasn't as beautiful, nor as interesting. My friend's looks and personality stretched miles farther.

"I would care if you died," I whisper when I finish reading. She smiles adorably.

"Thank you for that, Dylan," she tells me. Her smile is replaced by sadness and waning happiness. "Unfortunately, it's not enough. Not for me anymore."

I choke back a cry as soon as I hear those words. Was she...serious?

"When are you…doing this?" I slowly ask.

"After school. Amphitheater. Are you gonna watch?"

I realize this is my last day with her. My own eyes are pricking with tears, and their friends are unfortunately coming as well. Pretending to cough, I choke out the words:

"Yeah. I will."

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><p>All right, here is the second main character, Dylan! Now that I read it again...he's a bit like Parker.<p>

I should probably stop making so many polite guys. But I can't get into the mind of a guy...darn. Thanks for reading! You see that link that says **Review this Chapter**? Click the link and review. =D


	6. I'm Sorry

Here's the next chapter. I had to remember what it felt like when someone I knew died. Thing is, I don't think I managed to express it enough here. I wasn't in the mood exactly, but I did the best I could.

Guys, here's the next chapter.

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><p>-Several hours later-<p>

I knew that if I tried to convince to stop, she would kill herself immediately. So, I had no choice but to wait. Unfortunately, time wasn't kind on its part. School had ended in a flash. My stomach feels violently sick at the thought of losing my best friend. If only time could stop, here and now. I desperately want the bell to never ring, to let us be friends. Always. Please...

Her (probably) last request was that she wanted me to be there when she departed from this cruel world. I made sure I was at the amphitheater, and there she was.

Eyes bright, skin flawless as porcelain, and her hair, dark as ebony. In the sun, she was certainly more beautiful than before. It was then that I realized she was dressed in a pure white satin dress. She must have wanted the blood to show, clear and blatant. When her eyes meet mine, she smiles, an oh-so-innocent smile. At that moment, I felt like a knight, helpless when he sees his princess taken away. Like a fairy tale.

This is no fairy tale, of course. As soon as she mouths the words, "Good bye, Dylan," she takes out the firearm. Everybody who's around us suddenly screams out. People are yelling for the Dean, anybody, to get the crazy girl who's armed with a gun. Before they can do anything, she points it to her chest.

_BANG!_

She's gone. Her hand trembled at the last moment, but it didn't miss her heart. The blood splatters the cement and wall messily. She falls to the ground, surrounded by her own blood. Her dress soaks up some of it. Her light blue eyes are dimming. The red liquid hugs her in a messy embrace.

I run over to her, desperate to hear something real. I hold her wrist and check for pulses. It's slowing down, signifying her life is coming to an abrupt close. That's when I see her eyes, looking at mine. Her mouth is struggling to move, to say something to me. I feel my hands trembling, my body shaking uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry," she barely whispers.

The tears are coming now. I quickly wipe them away, making sure I see her in her last moments. I see her lips move one last time.

"Thank you, Dylan." Her mouth doesn't move after that. Her eyes are focused on nothing. That's it. My best friend, the only person I love with my whole heart, gone like that. Her fate sealed. Her lifeline shattered into a million pieces.

Oh my god, no..._ No!_ Sara! Please, don't leave! Please, don't die now... Sara...I didn't get to tell you... Why didn't I stop her? _Why?_ It's all my fault! I never told the teachers! If I did, I could have stopped this from happening! I could have made sure she got treatment! Even if she left town, getting better was a priority... _Sara, please..._

The ringing sound of the ambulance arrives at our school. Paramedics pick her up and carry her. They confiscate the gun from, which is now engulfed in warm blood. I run over to the paramedics and beg to ride with her.

"Sorry, kid," one of them says. "This is an emergency."

"You have to let me go! I'm her best friend!"

"Kid-"

"Just let him go. He'll cause more trouble if we keep saying no."

I jump into the car. She's on a gurney, covered by a thin sheet. The paramedics around me are saying things I can't hear. I only stare at my friend. Her eyes remain lifeless and cold. Her lips no longer smile easy. The only thing I can do is one thing I could never do while she lived. I press my own mouth against hers. Nobody bothers to pull me away, too busy with what else they're doing. Her mouth is barely warm, since her blood no longer flows life into her veins. Smooth, like satin. I pull myself away and start praying for her place in heaven. Wherever she is now, maybe it is better than here. I wish she was still here with me, though.

Her family didn't come to the hospital. They heard of her death by phone call. They came to her funeral, but as soon as it was over, they turned to their phones. A news station came and did a story. Her mother commented little, her father less, and Belinda was somewhere else, most likely driving to the mall. When they asked about her friends, they pointed in my way. The crew turned to me, and I told everything, knowing she wanted this to be as dramatic as possible. Not a single detail had been missed; I even made sure she was buried in her death clothes.

"How are you feeling about the loss of your friend, Dylan?" the newsman had asked me quietly. He understood the pain I was feeling...or maybe was just sympathizing for the ratings. Either way, it was nice to pretend that somebody cared.

"I hope she's happy, wherever she is," I tell him in an equally quiet voice.

Suddenly, I break down. Tears streaming down my face like a river, my voice is struggling to stay silent, but it can't. Coming to terms with my best friend's death, I'm trying to get a grip on reality. It's my mom who save me, though. My mom shoos the reporters away and holds me, waiting patiently until I've let my sadness and grief out. She pats my head and tries to reassure me, saying I'll be all right. I know these are false words, that it won't be all right. I As soon as I finish, I sit down and look at my mother. She hands me several tissues, and I blow my nose. I hug her and thank her for trying to help me out. I sniff loudly and cough violently, remembering the blood. The violent color, the way it splattered onto the ground. I shudder at the sight.

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><p>If the medical conditions and stuff is wrong, then I am sorry. I was never the best in science and health.<p>

There's our...bloody chapter. Please review.


	7. Funeral

"We are gathered here today to honor the memory of..." the man's voice started to recite his speech. Even though my friend's funeral was a private one, I was invited, seeing as I was her closest friend. The others who were attending were her cousins and grandparents (from her mother's side). They came in place of her parents and sister. I remember that she told me that she and her cousins played often when they were little. As the years passed, their friendships began to wane until they stopped talking altogether. I guess they felt a little guilty about not keeping ties with her. As for her grandparents, I believe that they supported her (more than Belinda), but due to old age they visited her less and less. My best friend's family never visited them on their own for some odd reason.

My best friend..._oh my god..._

She spoke often of them. How she loved them all, much more than her own family. She told stories about how crazy her cousins could be, and how her grandparents enjoyed pretending to be senile hags.

I wonder how she's doing now. Was her spirit living on in heaven? Or did she go to...that other place because she caused her own death? Maybe she was in heaven, and it was better there than here. I hope she was doing well. I can't imagine her soul in that other place...

I started to blink, wishing the tears could go away.

**-Two hour later-**

"Thank you for coming to her funeral," her grandmother, Anna, said. Her light grey hair was pulled into a high, tight bun. She wore a long, black dress with a white collar. "I'm so sorry about what happened. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you."

I couldn't speak, so I gave a weak nod and sniffled. For the whole duration of the funeral, I kept on crying buckets of tears. I took out a tissue and sneezed, wishing _I_ was the one who died instead of her. She didn't need to die. It was my fault for not stopping her...

"There, there," Anna said comfortingly. She wrapped an arm around me, which made me cry even more. As if she read my mind, she added, "It's not your fault. She was going through terrible times..."

"It was my fault..." I coughed in my sleeve. "I-if I was there for her...s-she still be here... I'm s-sorry for crying...e-even though I'm a guy..."

"It's all right to cry every now and then," she told me. "Tears can't stay in your heart forever. Do you know what she would say if she saw you in this state?"

"N-no..."

"She would say, 'Stop crying! You better keep living, or I'll kick your butt.' "

I let out a bitter laugh and coughed.

"Dylan, do you understand what I'm telling you?" she asked. "You _must_ keep living for her sake. I know that she wouldn't want to see you like this. No matter how tough things are-_cough!_ Sorry. You need to keep living, Dylan. Keep living, even if things seem to be at their lowest."

How to live...when there's nothing to live for?

"That reminds me..." she reached into her purse and dug for something. When she found what she looking for, she took it out and handed it to me. A photo album.

"It has all the photos of you two together," Anna explained. She smiled at me. "You would have been a good candidate for her to marry."

I looked down, letting my hair cover a part of my face. I mumbled a thank you and flipped through the pages. Photos of when we first met were here. From birthday parties to just messing around,... I felt the tears coming again.

"Thank you, Anna," I said weakly.


	8. Pricking Needles

I decided to try another style of writing for a little bit. Just like the one in Life's Thoughts. If you hate it, tell me, I'll change back.

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><p><em>A male voice whispers,<em> "I promise to be here for your birthday."

_More than several needles appear in the sky._

"If I lie, I'll prick myself with a thousand needles."

_Probably a thousand._

"Do you mean it?"

_There's too many to count though._

"Oh come on! Of course I do!"

_They come rushing at me, stabbing my body over and over._

"Honestly?"

_Each wound releases a drop of blood._

"Honestly."

_Until my clothes are stained of it, through and though._

_"I'll hold you to that promise!"_

_Even my hair is dripping with the semi-sticky liquid._

_"No problem!"_

But that doesn't matter, since the pain is too much to bear.

-Searching, searching... Memory found-

"You lied!"

_These needles are not the ordinary kind at all._

"I'm sorry, but something came up..."

_The pain is ten time worse than the regular one._

"You said you would come!"

_Like knives stabbing the heart..._

"I know, I know, I'm sorry!"

_Or a bullet through the head._

"It was important that you come!"

_I don't know how to describe it exactly..._

"I was stuck with my horrible family!"

_...since my nerves were now beyond the point of feeling anything..._

"I'm sorry! What else do you want me to say?"

_...but I know it's worse than anything in life._

"Nothing! Now go home!"


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